


A Fateful Meeting

by alleyoops, jennandanica



Series: What Remains [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, The Walking Dead (TV), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M, Walking Dead AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:46:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8838088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleyoops/pseuds/alleyoops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: After the zombie apocalypse, survivors roam the UK, trying to find their families, other survivors they can trust and somewhere safe where they can actually allow hope for a future to flourish. In this chapter, Alex and Ryan encounter a stranger.
  The offered handshake? Now that comes as a surprise. A beat passes before Alex takes him up on it, clasping Luke's hand in a perfunctory manner. "Don't think I've shook someone's hand in...?" He shrugs off the question. Sitting back on his heels once more, he says, "Yeah, you can come with us if you want. It's not a great time to travel alone."





	

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the [RPG Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read), this is NOT backstory for any of our pups in the game. Also, we apologize in advance for any discrepancies regarding UK geography and slang/terminology. We did our best but I'm sure we've mucked up something.

The detour took nearly the whole goddamn day. Alex had hoped they could cut across the cove with a more or less direct route, sheltering in the forest and refilling the canteens just upriver from the waterfall. But they'd nearly stumbled over the first scout while making their way to the south face of the quarry, and it hadn't taken much surreptitious observation to determine which way the man's camp was. Sure enough, the second scout had been easy to find once they knew where to look for her, and so they were forced to circle around and give the group a wide berth. He doesn't want to try to mix in with another group, not just yet. Too much volatility. And he figures that as long as he and Ryan can watch each other's backs, they don't need to put themselves at risk for more infighting, betrayal, heartbreak...

Most days it seems easier to simply deal with the dead.

Luke's been on his own for weeks now, his supplies running low, every town already pillaged, every cottage already ransacked. He settles in for the night, his line of empty cans strung up around the very small fire he dares to build with an easily scalable rocky outcrop at his back. He has a can of soup, one tin of tuna, another of beans, water to get him through a few days at least. It's getting colder this time of year and he tugs his collar up, shivering as the sweat from the day's hiking starts to dry against his skin. Fuck. What he'd give for a hot shower, some real food...

"I don't know," Ryan whispers, the words barely voiced. He passes over the precious binoculars, cracked lens and all. "It looks like he really is alone."

Alex nods in agreement, but he frowns – because, what the fuck? Who does that? "It's got to be a trap." 

Ryan rolls his eyes, though he reflexively checks over his shoulder nonetheless. "That doesn't make any sense," he mutters back, and pushes to his feet as silently as he can. Alex immediately protests, just as Ryan knew he would, and he tries to shush him with an impatient slash of his hand. "You want to sit back and watch while that fire gets him fucking shredded? Will that get you off?"

"Hey, maybe the reason he's alone is because he– God damn it, Ryan!" It's too late. The eternal fucking do-gooder, trying to save everyone else just like always. Alex glares, watching his mate cautiously pick his way through the trees towards the stranger. Motherfucker, if he has to put up with this one goddamn more time... Cursing silently, he follows. Just like Ryan knew he would.

The first bite of barely warmed beans are in his mouth when Luke hears a tree branch crack and his head snaps up. He swallows quickly, setting the can down and placing his hand on the hilt of the knife at his side. "Someone there?" he says, softly enough it won't draw any dead but loud enough it'll carry to someone purposely watching.

Grimacing at his own clumsiness, Ryan stretches up and gains another branch before he replies. "Are you as lonely as you look?" he whispers back, checking out the modest campsite from above.

"That depends," Luke says, his heart thumping so loudly he can barely hear himself speak. Live humans aren't necessarily better than dead ones and in a lot of cases, they're worse. "You alone?" He's got a gun as well as the knife but he's counting down bullets like he's counting down meals and the last thing he wants to do is use any of them. On anyone.

That sounds like a yes. One more scan, and Ryan drops lightly to his feet, keeping his gaze fixed on the stranger's hands. "No," he answers softly, but keeps his own hands visible, though he's certainly not going to any trouble to conceal the rifle strapped to his back. "It's cloudy tonight, but anyone could smell that fire from a mile off."

"Do you have a fucking deathwish?" Alex asks quietly, having used the distraction of Ryan's entrance to cover as he crept up on the man's eight o'clock.

"Do you?" Luke asks, pulling his gun - hidden behind the knife - in an instant, the barrel aimed at the other man while he keeps his eyes on the man in front of him. Fuck fuck fuck. He can only hope there aren't more of them.

Alex snorts softly, but he's impressed by the show of swift reflexes. "Nah," he says, stepping into the small circle of firelight. He slips his machete back into the sheath at his belt, steel scraping audibly against worn leather. "The fuck are you trying to do, then?" he asks, crouching down to bathe in the heat of the flames while it lasts. He flicks an eye at Ryan, keeping sure of him in the dimness, then lets himself relax enough to really check out the other man. "Smoke signals?"

Luke slowly puts his gun away and shrugs. "I was cold," he says, trying not to look too intently at the man in front of him. "There's good tree cover, the rocks, I put my cans up..." he sits back a little. "I was more concerned with the dead than people. I haven't seen anyone else for a few days."

"You're not a splitter?" Alex gestures vaguely to the east, and studies the way the firelight licks over the stranger's face, throwing intriguing shadows. "We stumbled over a group down in the limestone quarry. You didn't run with them?" Any information he can get has value. Particularly when it comes to actions and intent of other people, all trying to survive on the same scant resources.

Luke shakes his head. He doesn't know the first word and he hasn't seen the second. "I came from the other direction," he says, nodding that way. He glances at the man's companion, trying to get a read on these two. "Small town. We were pretty well fortified. I went out foraging, came back and they were all dead. I don't know what happened and I didn't stick around to find out."

It's not unexpected, but still... "You lost people?" Alex asks, his tone losing its sharp edge for the first time. "I'm sorry." He sighs lightly, and forces himself on. "Which direction are you heading?"

"Hadn't really decided," Luke says, picking the can of beans back up and putting it over the fire to reheat. "My family's gone as far as I know and I expect the bigger cities are probably worse off than the small ones. What about you two?" he asks, figuring it's his turn to ask some questions.

Alex glances up at Ryan, who is slowly pacing the perimeter. Ryan dips his chin in a quick nod – signaling that, for now, it's still just the three of them – and so Alex returns his attention to the conversation. "Yeah, London's completely fucking overrun. And the gang wars are even worse. Southwest of there, too, from what he said." A moment further of study before he adds, "He's Ryan. I'm Alex. We're working our way north."

There's a measured silence and then, "I'm Luke." He holds out his hand. "Is that an invitation to join you?"

The offered handshake? Now that comes as a surprise. A beat passes before Alex takes him up on it, clasping Luke's hand in a perfunctory manner. "Don't think I've shook someone's hand in...?" He shrugs off the question. Sitting back on his heels once more, he says, "Yeah, you can come with us if you want. It's not a great time to travel alone."

Luke nods. "I'll come." It's not exactly like he has other plans. "You got a destination in mind?" Finding it weird to talk this much. Even in the town he'd kept to himself, his secret one he couldn't risk betraying.

"The coast." That's as specific as Alex is willing to get; he figures there's no point in just offering up details of his plans to strangers. Practically a stranger, anyway. It'll take a shitload of time and shared experience before he could even consider trusting Luke. 

"I think that group's battened down for the night," Ryan says quietly, dropping down by the fire next to Alex. "But there's a swarm of walkers just over the ridge," he adds, pointing off into the forest. "I don't like it here."

Watching him closely, Alex nods. He and Ryan have been traveling together long enough that he can read him well. "Eat up," he tells Luke. "Let's clear out."

Luke offers to share what's left of his dinner but both men wave him away to his relief. He's starving and makes quick work of what's left in the can before packing up his bag and extinguishing the fire. He's already done a full day's trekking but it looks like he'll be doing more.

Ryan leads the way into the darkness, picking out a trail along the rock face he mentally marked earlier. He's curious about their new companion, but knows himself to be the more trusting one of the pair: if Alex with his bone-deep cynicism is willing to let the guy join them, then he's willing to risk turning his back on a stranger. Of course, it also helps to know that Alex will insist on bringing up the rear. 

For as much of the rough path as possible, Alex works to stay even with Luke. It's important that strangers be aware that he's a potential threat, but at this particular moment he's not trying to induce any paranoia. And so he only falls last in the line when the way is so narrow it demands single-file. 

It's not more than thirty minutes before Ryan stops at the edge of a small glade and turns a slow circle, reassuring himself of the spot's defensibility. Giving Alex a quick nod, he disappears into the thick trees.

"He's taking first watch," Alex murmurs, shrugging his heavy pack to the ground, then pulling his shotgun back over his shoulder again. "Have you been sleeping?"

"Not much," Luke says, digging through his pack for a dry t-shirt and jumper. He strips down, shivering against the cold, rubbing his old damp t-shirt against his body to make sure he's dry. "I use to brag about getting by on five or six but now I think I'd give my eyeteeth for a lie-in."

The flash of bare skin is distracting – for an instant it revives a libido long denied. Alex grits his teeth together and shoves away the nascent attraction, locking the feeling down so he can go back to ignoring it. He feels barely human anymore already; his body simply needs the reminder from his brain that sex is one basic human need he's safer doing without. "Go on and relax if you can," he advises, knowing full well that Luke has no reason to trust them. "We're solid." As a pointed measure, he embraces his own risk and stretches out on the ground. His skin is crawling, but he forces himself to shut his eyes nonetheless. 

Luke shoves his wet clothes into his bag and his bag under his head and stretches out a few feet from Alex. They haven't discussed who's taking the next watch or how Ryan decides when it's time but he figures they'll wake him and if they've managed to survive this long, he can probably trust they know what they're doing. Nevertheless, his knife goes under his bag as well, his fingers tight around the hilt.

* * *

The first fingers of peach and violet are streaking across the sky when Ryan blinks his eyes open, nudged awake by Alex. He sits up and hunches in on himself against the dawn chill, rubbing sand from his eyes. Then stumbles behind a tree to piss.

"Hey. Luke," Alex whispers, leaning down to wake the man. He doesn't want to risk touching him, not when he's got no idea whether Luke is likely to take a disoriented instinctive swing at him in surprise. 

Luke opens his eyes and then startles, the shadow over him taking a moment to coalesce into something – no, someone – familiar. His heart pounding, he sits up, knife still in hand. "What? Fuck," he rubs at his face with his free hand. "Is it my turn?" Only now realizing it's day or at least dawn. "You let me sleep?"

"Yeah." Lucky for Alex that he'd retreated the instant Luke stirred, and even now he keeps a wary eye on that knife that seemed to materialize out of thin air. "We figured you needed a couple hours more than we did. Don't worry, it won't happen again." For an instant, a quicksilver grin flashes across his face and he shoots Luke a wink, then turns to get his stuff together.

"Thanks." Luke watches Alex for a long moment then scrambles upright, his knife stashed and his bag hiked over his shoulders as Ryan comes out of the woods, hoping the other man didn't notice anything. "Give me a minute and I'll be ready to go," he says, disappearing into the wood's edge to take a piss.

"We should be able to loop around back to the riverbank if we keep pretty much northeasterly," Ryan says quietly, tracing his finger along a worn paper map. He looks up when Luke emerges from the trees. Folds up the map and stuffs it into his pack, then tosses their new companion an apple, only half moldy.

"Thanks." The fruit's a surprise and Luke smiles, drawing a jackknife from his back pocket to cut out the bad bits. "You guys have a lot of food?" The perishables had gone first in the town, the orchards and farms lost to the dead, but they'd had a lot of canned goods, a whole cottage's worth, stored away for the winter already. Christ. The loss makes his teeth ache. And then he remembers the people and his heart aches as well.

Ryan shrugs. "No." He takes a last survey of their campsite before he turns to trace their new path.

"Sometimes we get lucky," Alex murmurs in explanation. "You?"

"We had a good stockpile going back in the town I told you about," Luke says, checking out both his new companions a little more closely now that there's light, "but there's no way of getting to it now. And I had what I foraged with me and I've picked up a few things here and there but I'm down to my last tin of tuna and soup." He frowns. "My partner was this from area. I'm pretty familiar with it. If you want to show me the map later, I might be able to come up with some options."

"Yeah? Shit, it's been weeks since we saw anything familiar." Alex lifts his hands, and a second later catches the folded map Ryan tosses back. Then waves him on. "I know him. If I stand still then he has to keep moving, you know? We'll catch up." Keeping the hilt of his machete free, he crouches down and lays out the map. "We're... here, yeah? Did you work all the way out here? I thought you said you came from west."

"This is the town I came from." Luke points it out on the map. "And I came through here," drawing his finger along the valley, "but everything was already cleared out. There's a church over here though," tracing the route he thinks they're taking, "a bit off from where we're going but they used to do a massive food drive from summer through Christmas and people might not have thought of them because they're not connected to one town or another. That's a strong emphasis on might, though. I wouldn't promise anything."

"Okay." Alex chews on his bottom lip for a moment of thought. "This is good. Okay..." He refolds the map and gets to his feet, scanning the hill for Ryan. "You lost your partners?" With a grimace he glances at Luke. "Sorry. Stupid question. Sometimes I almost... I almost forget."

"It's okay. It was before this all happened," Luke says, shrugging his pack higher on his shoulders. "Just before, but that makes all the difference. Cancer."

"Oh." Alex nearly continues his vein of colossal stupidity by asking, All of them? but luckily stops himself just in time. "Yeah. My mum, too. A couple years ago. Before." Luke's right: it makes a hell of a difference to think of it that way. "I don't know what happened to my family once all this started. But maybe–" Again, he swallows his words. He doesn't need to be babbling any foolish hopes to a stranger. He slants a sharp sidelong glance at Luke. "Not Ryan, either. Do you know...? Have you heard anything about whether it spread across the ocean?" 

"I think so." Luke nods. "North America at least. Before everything went off the air, they were talking flu, plague, weird attacks." He looks at Alex, wondering at the fucked up human nature that lets him think how gorgeous the man is, now, of all times. He shouldn't even be able to think that way. Fuck. He looks away again. "I expect they're in the same boat as us."

For a moment, Alex wonders what he sees in Luke's eyes... Then he shakes himself, because fuck he's an idiot. "Shit," he mutters. "Yeah. Okay." Fuck! He grimaces. "I guess it's up to us to repopulate the fucking world. That's fantastic." He looks up and sees Ryan kneeling by a rivulet, and quickly snags his canteen.

It's certainly not up to Luke but that's not something he's going to point out. The last time he had sex with a woman was in his teens and out and out disastrous. "How many dead have you run into out here?" he asks. There hadn't been any sign of more than one or two a day before the town got overrun and he's still not sure how that happened. It could have been a group, it could have been someone out foraging got bit and came back inside the walls.

"There've been less, the farther north we've come. In the cities it was insane. I guess it makes sense for their numbers to thin out in the countryside. It's getting harder to find meat, though. For us, I mean," Alex explains, glancing at Luke. "Ryan brought down a deer a couple weeks ago, and we tried to preserve as much as we could carry with us, but..." he trails off with a shrug. 

"We might get fish today," Ryan points out, joining them at the river's edge.

Alex nods, scanning the water. "Oh, hey. Luke thinks there's maybe a cache we can check out."

"No guarantees," Luke says quickly, "but there's a church not too far from where we're headed and it's not attached to any of the towns per se but they do a huge Christmas food drive each year. Keep all the stores in the basement. There's a good chance there might be something left."

Ryan and Alex exchange a look, more of the mental shorthand that has evolved in their time together. "It sounds like it's worth a try," Ryan says, thinking that Luke seems to have been honest with them so far; he doesn't seem to be giving off any psychotic bottom-feeder vibes, anyway. They've definitely already had their fill of that type. He scoops up a last handful of fresh water and splashes it on his face, and asks, "Do you want to lead?"

"Sure." Luke's surprised but thankful they trust him to do it. "It'll probably take us half the day to get there, maybe an hour or two out of our way," he says, quickly filling his own canteen. "There's a couple other towns we can check on the way, more hamlets than anything else, but if you're okay with clearing houses there might be something."

"I'm okay with checking them, just so long as we don't stay," Ryan replies.

"Yeah. Let's do it." Alex gives Luke a nod, and hopes like hell they're not walking into an ambush. "How much experience have you had, fighting them?"

"A fair bit," Luke says, starting off in the direction they'd been headed, not really sure how to measure it. "When they closed the airports, I thought I was stuck up here but safe and then things went to hell. I'd brought my partner's ashes to," _quick change of pronouns_ , "her grandparents and was staying with them for a few days." He goes on, "We were okay until the dead started coming out of the nearby towns. I tried to get her gran and gramps to come with me but they wouldn't. They took some pills instead and I had to kill them too," he confesses, his voice quiet, deceptively monotone, his tears already shed many times over. "I tried to keep ahead of the pack, found another town where they'd holed up, taken advantage of some walls that were still standing and fortified the rest. After that, it was just whoever I ran into outside the walls when I was hunting or on a supply run." He glances at Alex and Ryan. "I know some people keep track but I stopped counting long ago."

 _Her_ grandparents. So, scratch that instant of insane hope that had flared in Alex when Luke held his gaze just long enough to make him think that maybe... "Fuck," he says under his breath, and reaches out – then drops his hand just short of Luke's shoulder. "Sorry, man. Her grandparents. Jesus."

"Yeah." Ryan shoots Alex a look, surprised by the near-contact even as he's sickened by the story. And he checks out their guide again, suddenly sizing him up in a whole new way. "We don't keep track in that– you know, in that psycho 'counting notches in our belt' sort of thing. Just wanted some idea of what to expect, if we come up on anything when we're with you." He's not ordinarily the type to ask some guy how big his balls are; but then of course, nothing's been ordinary for a long time. He feels obscurely like he should apologize, all too aware how close to the surface a man's ego can be these days, but surely that would just be stepping even deeper into it. 

"How crowded was it around here?" Alex asks, warily watching the horizon. "Before."

"Not very." Luke points vaguely south. "York's way down that way. Population about two hundred thousand, Leeds beyond that at around half a million. One of our scouts said they were making their way north in huge waves."

"North?" Alex's mouth sets in a firm line.

"Well, fuck." Ryan scrubs the back of his hand over his forehead, then meets Alex's eyes, a question shining in his own.

A moment passes in silence, and then Alex shrugs. "It doesn't matter," he decides quietly. "The dead are coming up here from London and Wales, and it's just as likely they're flocking south from Glasgow and Edinburgh. Nothing's changed. Just so long as they haven't figured out how to swim. We keep going."

"So you're not just headed to the coast then?" Luke asks, pushing a few overgrown tree branches aside. "You're planning on grabbing a boat?"

"It's a plan." Alex gives Luke a wry grin, half-hearted though it is. "I'm not saying it's a good one, but..."

"We need a goal," Ryan pipes up, in a tone which suggests they've covered this ground many many times before.

"Yeah." Frowning now, Alex pushes his hair out of his eyes and mutters, "I'm gonna scout up ahead."

Luke drops back a little, beside Ryan. It's obvious there's some tension there, but about what he can't be certain and he doesn't think asking directly will win him any points. "Do you guys know each other from before?"

"Nah. Alex was living in London, before. I was just in the country touristing. Saw Stonehenge, visited Dover, all that stuff. It was only a week after I arrived that they shut the borders and the world went to shit," Ryan answers. "I got caught up with some survivors, strangers, trying to get to London. Only three of us made it there. And then I was the only one of us who made it out." He studies the path as they walk, carefully places one foot in front of the other. "I ran into Alex and his group just outside of Watford, and walked with them for a few days. But then we got ambushed by– by–" Shaking his head, he abandons that explanation. "Alex and me and this older woman, Camille, we got away... And then Camille got bit. Since that, Alex and I have met some other people on the road here and there, but mostly we just watch each other's backs now."

Luke nods. "It's hard to know who to trust," he says. "Did you--?" Fuck. "Neither of you were married? Kids?" He hopes the questions come across as innocuous as they sound to his ears.

Ryan shakes his head in denial. "Not yet. I actually... This trip to England, it was supposed to be a holiday for my fiancee and me. We'd been planning it for months. But then we had a break-up for the record books. So I left her behind and came by myself. I still wonder if she..." He frowns. "I try not to think about it. And Alex... He told me he didn't have anyone special. But he's trying to get to his family in Sweden. I'm helping him, and," he shrugs, "I figure that one day he'll help me get back to Sydney." It sounds just as far-fetched in his brain as it does out loud. "I get pissed off at him when he says _If_. 'If we make it back.' I think we've got enough working against us already to go talking like that. So instead I say _when_. 'When we make it back.'"

"When we make it back," Luke says, cracking one of the first genuine smiles he's donned in ages. "I like the sound of that." He also likes the sound of Alex not having anyone special but it doesn't mean a thing. Just adds fuel to the fire of his imagination. "I think I've just been head down, thinking about nothing but basic survival the last few weeks. It's good to have a plan."

"See? That's what I keep telling him." Ryan watches Luke as they walk now, side by side. "You get it. You have to feel like there's a point, like there's an actual goal you're working to reach. Or it's too easy to just stop moving."

"Are you bitching about me behind my back? Seriously?" Alex asks, popping into view and descending from the rise of a hill. "We've got some stray dead, there and over there," he says, pointing. "But I didn't see anyone alive."

"We were just talking about world views," Luke says, his stomach dropping at the sight of Alex – and not from the mention of the dead. "What do you guys do? Give them a wide berth or take them out?"

Alex shakes his head even as Ryan answers, "Avoid them. No sense putting ourselves at risk if we don't have to. But if they get in our way, that's different."

"Yeah." Alex's gaze lingers a moment too long before he catches himself staring at Luke's mouth. Then he pulls himself back a step. "So, which way now?"

He's sure he's just imagining it but either way Luke has to shake his head to focus on Alex's question. He would have sworn the man was staring at him. Like, _staring_ staring, not just looking, or like he's got something stuck in his teeth. "We should be able to skirt around that way," he says, checking his watch which has a built-in compass. "It'll mean coming back inland a bit more to get to the church but it's better than taking on trouble we don't need to."

Alex nods. "Yeah. That works." He waits for Ryan to fall into step behind their guide, then safely brings up the rear. He knows he needs to get his shit together before he blows this. 

And little does Alex know, but Ryan is thinking along the same lines... He watches Luke as he leads them deeper into the woods, slowly climbing higher on a circuitous route, the gentle foothills beginning to give way to the harsher landscape of the moors. Twice his head whips sharply around at suspicious noises, and he's slow to relax once more.

A few more hours of walking and they break for a longer rest and something to eat. They've passed a town or two but nothing they've wanted to leave their path to explore. Putting distance between them and the horde that might be coming at them from the south is the more appealing option. "I'll be right back," Luke says, nodding towards a copse of trees. "Then we can head in to the church and if there's nothing there, we can still make some decent time before we lose the light."

Ryan lifts a hand in acknowledgment, then raises his canteen to his lips. 

"We're probably not going to get much more of this sunshine," Alex remarks, stretching out in the dirt. "Nights are getting colder."

"Uh-huh." Ryan takes another swig of water, then crouches down next to Alex. Whispers, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Alex cracks an eye open to glare up at him. "I'm just resting for a few seconds. What the fuck?"

"No, that's–" Ryan drags a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, making the unruly locks stand on edge. "With _him_."

"Him?" Sitting up to brace on his elbows, Alex darts a glance into the trees to check that they're still alone. "I don't know. I'm trying to trust him. Enough to see if he keeps his word about where he's leading us."

"No. _Christ_." For a frustrated moment, Ryan buries his face in his dirty hands. Then he tries again. "Look, I'm not saying you shouldn't hit on him–"

Alex's eyes fly open wide, his cheeks flushing hot. "I wasn't hitting on–"

"I know, shit! And I said, I'm not saying that you shouldn't. I'm just saying that..."

"What?" Alex stares at Ryan, waiting impatiently for him to get a full sentence out. "You're just saying what?"

"I'm just wondering if you've thought at all about the risk," Ryan bursts out, then forces himself back to a low murmur. "I mean, now? Are you sure? Yeah, he's... I just... Look, we don't know him. We don't know what he'll be like in the thick of it. If he turns out to be a bloody fool, will you be able to leave him? If you have to?"

Silence stretches between them for long moments, broken only by the soft hint of a growl in Alex's throat. "Fuck. You," he grates out, climbing to his feet and brushing dust from his hands. "I don't need you to fucking remind me about the shit we're in."

Luke's zipping up his jeans and starting back into the clearing when he hears the two men going at each other. He doesn't mean to eavesdrop but he also doesn't want to interfere or get caught in the middle. And then the words reach him... Alex's words. _I wasn't hitting on–_ He doesn't hear the rest but he doesn't really need to. It's enough to know his radar _isn't_ totally fucked.

Ryan opens his mouth to argue, but then simply releases his breath on a heavy sigh. "Fine," he says. "It's your doings, I've got nothing to say."

"Good." Alex stretches his arms over his head, feeling his shoulder pop, then looks up at a movement in his peripheral vision. He spots Luke and for a second his whole train of thought derails, pure animal desire saturating his blood. Then he makes himself look away, and picks his pack up once more. "Let's go."

Luke grabs his pack and slides it over his shoulders, his cheeks hot, his throat flushed. Fuck. "It shouldn't take us more than fifteen minutes to reach the road and then we can walk in from there. If we see or hear any cars though, we'd better duck into the woods." He doesn't even wait for them to respond, just starts off, trusting they'll follow. Still processing the bits and pieces he'd heard.

They cover the last mile in silence, visually checking in here and there. When Luke crouches at the top of a rise overlooking the church, Ryan kneels at his side. "What do you think?" he asks softly, rapidly scanning the tableau. "We came across a little village kirk back down Derbyshire way. It looked really quiet, but once we got through the doors..." He looks anxiously at Luke. "It must have been the whole town gathered in there, folk packed in for their last prayers. Before they turned."

Luke shakes his head. "This won't be like that. This church used to serve the miners and their families but when the colliery closed, everyone moved out and it sat empty for a long time. The last few years it was used for storage by the churches in the neighbouring towns. Those would be the ones people would go to. But you're right," he allows anyway. "We should go in through the basement, avoid the main floor completely unless we can get a good look inside."

"Can we get in there, right to the basement?" At Luke's other shoulder, Alex quietly checks the clip on his 9 mm, then slips it back into his belt. "Do you know a back way in?"

"It's old enough to have a cellar door," Luke says, flashing a grin over his shoulder. "But it'll be locked. We'll have to find something to pry it open since we can't risk shooting it off." He assumes they know that, but says it anyway, just in case.

"I've got a bar," Ryan mutters, shrugging his pack to the ground and digging through its contents to the bottom.

For his part Alex continues to hangs back. Dazed by that brief supernova of a grin, the afterimages still dancing across the backs of his eyes.

"Got it," Ryan says, pulling out a short crowbar. "Ready?"

"Apparently we are," Luke says, more than a little impressed at Ryan's stash. He leads the way down the hill and around the back of the church, the lot and the road beyond it completely empty. But he stops still in front of the cellar doors, a soft curse spilling from his lips. "The lock's already broken." He shakes his head. Damnit. "Still want to check it out?" He grabs the handles and softly jiggles the doors a couple of times. "If they got in, they wouldn't be able to get out but I don't hear anything." And usually the softest of noises will get attention from the dead. Or at least set them off with that horrible moaning.

Ryan's glance crosses Alex's. And he nods. "Yeah. Alex'll take point. You cover him. I've got your back."

Unshipping his machete, Alex eases open one of the cellar doors, wincing when the hinges creak. A quick look inside for any obvious obstacles, and then he melts silently through the opening. He waits for a moment, listening carefully, before he clicks his flashlight on. "The stairs are really steep here," he whispers back over his shoulder, "be careful." Deeper into the darkness, each step cautious.

Whatever interest he might have in Alex, it all disappears in this moment, shoved to the back of his brain, survival instinct coming to the fore. Knife in hand, Luke follows the other man, gaze flickering everywhere in the dim light, seeing danger in every fucking corner. "There's boxes still here," he whispers, although they won't check them out until they're sure the place is clear. "And someone was staying..." A blanket, cot, and little camp stove evidence of that.

"It looks like it's been awhile since anyone used this," Ryan murmurs, crouching down to inspect the leavings. He drags a finger through a layer of dust on top of the stove. 

"Do you know what this door leads to?" Alex asks Luke, pressing his ear to the thick wood. "I don't hear anything on the other side."

"It's a hallway. Couple of storerooms. Cloakroom. An extra office." Luke tries to remember the last time he was here. "End of the hallway is the stairs. There's a door at the top, which should be closed." He moves to the other side of the door. "Go ahead." Knife at the ready.

Alex turns the doorknob as quietly as he can, waits a beat, then shines his light into the shadows of the hall. "Clear so far," he whispers to his companions, but stiffens when he hears a loud thump from behind one of the closed doors down the way. "Got something."

His own knife in hand, Ryan takes up position. "Walker," he confirms after listening closely for another moment. 

With a nod of acknowledgement, Alex glances at Luke to make sure he's prepared. Then he shoves the door open, throwing light into the cloakroom. And immediately jumps back. "Ah, Christ," he mutters, his shoulders relaxing infinitesimally as he steps inside. A walker hanging from a makeshift noose scrabbles frantically for him, redundantly strangling itself in its struggles.

Ryan winces at the sight, but won't let himself look away. "Is that the only one?"

Luke nods. "I don't hear anything else," he says, but he takes a few steps away to quickly check that the door is closed at the top of the stairs. Back beside his two companions, he stares for a moment, shaking his head at the sight. "He had water, food... He was safe down here. I don't get it."

"Despair." Ryan's voice is bleak, edged with numbness. "He was fucking lonely. Probably worried he was the last one alive." The stench of decomposing flesh is horribly familiar, yet still stomach-turning. The gnarled fingers claw for his face when he steps closer to drive his blade into its undead brainstem. Ryan swipes the back of his hand over his eyes. Sometimes it amazes him to find that he can still shed tears. "Alex, can you–"

"Yeah, I'm on it." Alex is already reaching up to slice through the line of hanging cord, and he grunts softly under the corpse's weight. It's a last mercy, for those betrayed so cruelly: some final attempt at human dignity, even at the gritty end. "I'll lay him out in the far corner. Check the boxes, see if there's anything we can still use." He swipes a discarded coat from its hanger, and spreads it over the body as a sort of shroud.

The way Ryan reacts and the way Alex handles the body tells Luke more about the two men than anything else could. He's found good people. "There's a ton of stuff here," he says, checking out the other storerooms and the boxes and shelves in each. "Probably enough for a couple of years even, but there's no way we can take it all with us."

"We should be able to keep refilling our canteens along the river," Ryan says, poking through a stack of non-perishables. "Maybe one sealed water bottle each, just in case?" He starts digging through the canned goods, looking for the items with the most calories and nutrients. "And matches, if you see any. God, trying to start fires without them has been such a fucking pain."

"And this from the Outback Boy Scout," Alex teases, slipping a bottle into his pack, then laying in some cans.

"What have you been using so far?" Luke asks, digging in his pack. "I've got flint and lighters," he says, tossing Ryan one of each. "I've got extra fluid if you need it too."

"Oh, yes. Thank you!" Ryan grabs a plastic grocery sack and wraps it all up together, then stuffs the packet where – he hopes – it will be safe from rain. He gives Luke a wry smile. "It's been a bit since we had hot food. This fucking climate..."

Alex clambers back to his feet, hoisting his pack back onto his shoulders with a brief grimace. "Any reason we shouldn't go back out the way we came in?"

"Not that I can think of," Luke says, dumping a box of protein bars into his pack. The things taste like shit but they don't need heating and they're calorie-dense. He adds more tuna, a few cans of soup and a whole box of some kind of chocolate bar with nuts before calling it quits. "I wish we had a wagon or something but it'd be a pain in the ass to take with us even if we did."

"Yeah." Ryan shivers in a draft, and frowns. "Pretty soon we'll need to start thinking about how we'll shelter from the cold. Firewood, blankets. When it snows, we'll probably have to... Shit."

Turning back from the open door, Alex puts his hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Hey. What's the rule?" he asks, locking gazes with his mate.

Ryan stares back steadily, his brow furrowed with worry. But then he nods. "Get through today."

"Too fuckin' right, man." Alex gives his shoulder a light slap. Then heads back out to the cellar stairs.

Luke follows, lost in thought. Ryan's right. It's only going to get colder and they can't risk setting a fire every night. They need sleeping bags, emergency blankets, the good stuff, light stuff... Fuck.

They hike undisturbed through the afternoon, and the sun is beginning to set when they pause to rest on a high cliff. "What is that?" Alex asks, peering down at the rushing water, which nearly disappears into mist on the horizon. Trying to mentally get his bearings. "That's not still the Settle, is it? Is that on the map?"

"It should be..." Ryan squints at the far shore, but it's already disappearing under the shadow of twilight. "I thought we'd be coming up on the Tyne by now."

"It is," Luke says, checking his watch again, the Indiglo blue growing fainter faster now. He'll have to look for batteries the next time he gets the chance. "We're just further west still than we should be. We need to travel east and cross above Jarrow. It's a smaller crossing but there's not a major city waiting for us on the other side."

"Agreed. I've got no fucking interest in another city," says Ryan under his breath. He steps back towards the treeline. "Might as well set up camp here for the night."

"All right." Alex points north into the woods. "I'm going to make a fire upwind, if you want to stay and eat here. Since we went shopping today," he laughs softly, "I think I'll go all out and cook us up a gourmet dinner."

"Let me know if you want any help," Luke says. "Otherwise I'll take a quick look around. Make sure we're on our own."

It's good, having three of them teamed up together. And in this moment – when Ryan is setting up their early-warning systems and Luke is securing the perimeter, leaving Alex to try and throw a meal together that didn't _entirely_ come straight from a tin – Alex reflects that this is a luxury he could get used to. And for the first time all day, he allows himself to dwell on Ryan's words of this morning. His warnings. _I'm just wondering if you've thought at all about the risk. Will you be able to leave him? If you have to?_

What a stupid question that had been. Of course Alex would be able to leave Luke behind. If he had to. Frowning, he pokes a stick into the fire, stirring up a small shower of sparks.

Luke's done before Ryan. He joins Alex and crouches down like the other man had at his own fire, warming his hands against the chill. "Everything looks good. There's a horde gone over the cliff a ways down but I don't know if someone sent them over or they just went over on their own. Either way, there doesn't look to be any more coming up behind them."

"Are they in our way?" Alex asks, looking up from his work to study Luke's profile, struck again by the raw beauty in his face. Happy at least for the chance to look his fill. "Can we avoid that part of the valley? Is it close to the crossing?"

"It's not close at all and as long as there's not another group coming up behind them, we should be fine," Luke says, glancing at Alex, their eyes meeting. He fights the urge to look away, to hide, and just stares at Alex for a moment. "I have chocolate bars for dessert," he says finally, quietly, returning to rubbing his hands over the heat.

"...I love dessert," Alex says, and it actually takes an instant before he realizes just how inane his comment was. "I, I mean chocolate," he mutters, starting to gather up the hot tins of food. "I mean that I love chocolate." He stands up to kick dirt on the fire.

"Me too," Luke says, rising to his feet as well. "I might actually go through withdrawal when there's not any more left."

"Yep. That'll be ugly." Alex hardly pays attention to his words at all now, too distracted by the hot flush on his face plus the dark velvet sound of Luke's voice. And Ryan was concerned about him trying to get laid during the fucking apocalypse. Ha.

Luke helps Alex with the cans. "Does Ryan always take first watch?"

"Nah. Depends." Alex shrugs. "We just make it up every night."

Luke nods. Even if Alex was interested... He shoves the thought from his mind, then decides, fuck it, "You and he? You're not...?"

Alex waits for the rest of the question. And when it doesn't come, he starts to think that he's been blocking all this out even more than he'd been aware of. "You lost me. Sorry, man," he says, looking up to meet Luke's eyes. "We're not what?"

"Involved," Luke finishes after a long moment, wondering whether he should have 'neverminded' it. For all he knows, he heard them wrong this morning anyways and now he's gone and fucked to hell the only decent thing to come his way in ages.

It takes a couple seconds for the other shoe to drop. And even then, it's the slight awkwardness of Luke's tone that has sudden comprehension flashing through Alex's brain, far more than it is the words themselves. "Involved," he echoes, and he can feel the corners of his mouth turning up in a rusty smile. "You mean, like, sexually? Fuck, no. We're just... We're practically brothers at this point." Oh yeah, he's definitely grinning now. "Why do you ask?"

They say confession's good for the soul... as long as it doesn't get him thrown over the cliff. "I heard you guys this morning," Luke admits. "Him asking you about hitting on me and..." Fuck. He blows out a breath. "I wouldn't want to make a move I shouldn't."

A dizzying rush of feeling paralyzes Alex for an instant of eternity. But then he drops his pack to the ground and tangles his fingers in Luke's hair, kissing him with all the pent-up need of a world that's been going nothing but wrong, up till this moment right now.

Luke moans into the kiss, a rough shudder running through him. He tightens his grip on the cans he's holding, but presses back, kissing harder, kissing Alex with everything he's worth. Suddenly realising that he'd never really expected to be touched like this again.

"Shit, I'm gonna get burned," Alex mutters, hungrily diving deep again.

Luke moans again. Fuck, he does not want to stop this but Ryan's going to be waiting for them. Hungry, worried... "We need to get back," he whispers, pulling away, keeping them parted, his forehead pressed against Alex's. "But I'll take first watch tonight. You can join me."

"Then who the fuck is going to keep an eye out for trouble?" Alex asks him, clasping Luke's nape and pressing close for another desperate kiss. 

Hidden behind a screen of trees, Ryan snorts a soft laugh. He'd been concerned when neither of them had returned to the campsite in what he felt to be a reasonable amount of time, and so he'd stealthily crept through the woods to inspect... "Just come eat dinner, you idjits," he calls out, just loud enough for his friends to overhear. "Then once you're fed I'll take watch and you can shag each other's brains out."

Luke blushes like he hasn't blushed since he was a teenager. Full-body, head to toes. God. "So much for discretion." 

His blood feels like it's sizzling through his veins, and Alex grins again. "It's good we got that out of the way," he says. In spite of Ryan's warnings, it's enticing to stay and think about taking a bite out of Luke – the one real deterrent, of course, being the thought that to do so would put them both at risk of genuinely being bitten. "Later," he whispers, squeezing Luke's hand in promise. When he picks up his pack, so hastily dropped, he curses to find that his careless actions caused the hot food to slosh out of its tins. "Damn it."

"I've got these ones," Luke says, holding up the cans he's still clenching tightly, that 'later' still echoing in his head. "And we can rescue some of that but we'd better wash your pack out after we eat."

"Yeah, well..." Alex's grumble of complaint trails off into a wordless mutter. And when he hoists the sloppy pack onto his shoulders he assures Luke, "Worth it."

They return to the campsite to find that Ryan has strung up empty tins amongst the trees in a rough circle, as well as draped a couple tarps to create modest shelters. "Rain is definitely coming in," he says, shrugging into a hoodie and wrapping his arms around himself. "I tried to set us up where we won't get flooded, but we need to keep an eye out for mud avalanches." Aside from everything else they watch for.

Luke sets the tins down and takes a seat beside Ryan. The other man's right about the rain, he can feel it in the air, the damp already starting to seep into their clothes, skin, making its way to their bones. Fuck. It almost makes him wish he'd been somewhere warm when this happened. At least there'd be one less thing to worry about. But then he looks at Alex and yeah, that might be reason enough to be glad he's here. He helps Alex with his pack, taking the cans and what's left and placing them with the ones he'd been carrying. "Least we don't have to worry about bears or wolves around here," he teases. And the dead aren't interested in actual food.

"There is that." Alex is starting to feel a bit of a fool, but it seems he can't stop smiling, a grin creeping onto his lips at random moments. It's just been so damn long since he's felt such a surge of hope, a sense that the world still holds moments of brightness. Something worth living for, beyond the gut-stubborn instinct to survive simply because he must.

The wonder-touched expression on Alex's face brings a smartass remark to Ryan's lips – but it melts away before he can voice it. Fortunately. Because, as tempting as it is to take the piss out of his mate, he realizes he'd vastly prefer for him – any of them – to feel some joy while they can. Until the inevitable next horrors descend on their tiny corner of the world.

Luke digs into a can of stew, fishing out a piece of beef. "You know, before this all happened, I was vegetarian," he says, popping the meat into his mouth with a groan. "Five years." He shakes his head. "If I could go back, I'd eat _all_ the steaks."

"Ohh, _steak_ ," Alex moans, laying a reverent hand over his heart. "With beer. Mashed potatoes. A really chewy Cabernet..."

"I'm going to stop you there so that I don't have to punch you," Ryan says, shooting him a raised eyebrow. Then he asks Luke, "Ethical choice? Or health reasons?"

"Boyfriend reasons," Luke says with a laugh, glad he can finally be honest. "He did most of the cooking and it made it easier to keep in shape for work so..." He shrugs. "But now I miss it like crazy."

Alex shakes his head in disapproval. "Some sacrifices just aren't worth it," he tells Luke with a teasing grin.

This new information is still rattling around in Ryan's head, though, and his brain insists on picking at the inconsistencies. "So, your partner... with her grandparents...?"

Luke nods. "Everything else was true. My partner was just a him instead of a her."

Ryan frowns down at the toes of his boots. "I'm really sorry for your loss." It feels like such an overly simplified thing to say, and yet pointless nonetheless. "There's just no..." He shakes his head, and starts gathering up the scant remains of his meal. "So, ah. Gourmet meal, firelight," he says, getting to his feet and giving them a bright, if forced, smile. And he points into the woods. "I'm going to be over there. For the next four to six hours." With a wave, he walks into the darkness.

Luke can feel himself blush again and he ducks his head a little before grinning over at Alex. He starts to say something then changes his mind, leaning across the small distance between them to press his lips against Alex's.

The kiss is a surprise, interrupting Alex's intention to say, _Hey man, no pressure, we don't have to if_... But fuck that. The reality is so much better. "You're sure?" he asks breathlessly, swearing to himself that's all he's going to question. It's a minute before he gives Luke the chance to answer, though. Hungry for his taste.

Luke nods. He's never been more sure of anything. "I don't have condoms but I'm clean," he whispers, doubting it matters when they could both be dead tomorrow. "And there's Vaseline in my pack."

"Get it," Alex whispers, his mouth suddenly dry. He gets up and scans the trees, his thoughts racing – but that's all the brain cells he can spare for the end of the world. Shrugging out of his jacket, he spreads it out on the dirt beneath one of the sheltering tarps.

Luke grabs the jar of Vaseline from his bag and offers it to Alex. "It's been a while for me," he confesses softly. "So, if you could... try and take it easy at first." God knows they're all uncomfortable enough these days without adding anything more to it.

"Sure," Alex says, although he then immediately manages to fumble the jar. It blows his mind, this implication that he's about to get so much more than a clumsy handjob, especially since he woke up this morning convinced he'd probably never have sex with another person ever again. "We can– shit, my hands. Let me just... I'll be right back," he says, ducking into the trees.

Which leaves Luke on his own, both Alex and Ryan having gone off. Shit. He blows out a breath, yanks his jumper over his head, and hopes like hell it hasn't been too long since he last managed a wash, running water and soap another thing he'd give his eyeteeth for. Maybe if they get really lucky, at some point, they might run into a girl for Ryan. A consenting girl, he amends in his head, thinking of some of the men in the town and how they'd reacted to the arrival of any new woman.

"Hey," Alex whispers, returning from his quick side trip. He grabs Luke's hands in his and pulls him to the low shelter. "Really cold, I know. Sorry," he says with a laugh, and rubs his hands briskly over his sleeves before he pulls off his shirt. "The creek is freezing." But at least his fingers are the closest to clean they've been in a while. He lies back, reaching out. 

Following Alex's lead, Luke pulls his t-shirt off, setting it with his jumper before letting the other man pull him close, the feel of skin against skin something he hadn't even realized he needed as much as – if not more than – the sex. To be touched, needed, wanted. To feel another's warmth, be held, caressed. It'd been a long time since Luke had had any of that. Long before the world went to hell, as his lover lay dying, wasting away, in so much pain he hadn't been able to handle being touched. Sudden tears sting Luke's eyes but he blinks them away, his emotions poured into kissing Alex.

Alex shivers, lust shocking through him. He'd nearly forgotten what this feels like: the quicksilver rush of desire, flowing out of him and doubled back, bounding and rebounding between them. Smoothing his hand over Luke's shoulder, he strokes down his back to cup his ass, pulling him in closer. His cock is spike hard in his jeans and he's afraid he's not going to impress anyone like this, but god he wishes he could make this last.

Luke shifts a little to one side, slipping a hand between them, touching Alex through the denim, a low moan spilling from his lips. He gives a soft laugh, nipping at Alex's mouth and whispers, "Figures you'd be built like this and all we have is Vaseline."

Arching into the touch, Alex swallows a groan. "If you keep doing that, then it won't matter," he murmurs, and licks out at Luke's bottom lip. "You're gonna make me come before I even get my fingers inside you."

Luke shivers at the words. "Well, we don't want that, not this time," he murmurs, letting their tongues tangle for a moment, his hand just resting over Alex's erection. "I want you to fuck me."

God, those are magic words. Alex drops his hands to Luke's belt, and though it's a little clumsy, his fingers a little too stiff, he works his jeans open. "I want you naked," he whispers, slipping his hand over Luke's hip. "I want to feel all of you." Rolling to his back, he swiftly shoves his own jeans down, nude now to his ankles.

Shedding his boots – but not his socks – Luke gets rid of his jeans and settles on his hands and knees, legs spread, his cock hanging hard and aching between his thighs. He shivers in a combination of cold and arousal, his hole fluttering against the icy breeze which blows over his skin. 

Alex spins the top off the jar and liberally coats two of his fingers, careful to keep from getting jelly everywhere. He kneels up between Luke's spread thighs, his heart pounding, and grazes his fingertip over his hole. Testing. "You are the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

"You mean since the apocalypse?" Luke teases, grinning, a moan spilling from him at the touch.

"No." Alex licks the nape of Luke's neck, rubbing the tight muscle now, dipping just inside. "I mean ever."

And that? Right there? Spoken by someone who looks like a fucking Viking god even while roughing it? It sends another shiver through Luke. It doesn't matter whether Alex is lying or not. It has the ring of truth and it's underlined by the way the man's touching him, taking his time, learning him even here, for God's sake. "Fuck," he whispers, pushing back a little. "More..."

 _More_. Alex knows he can't do a damn thing about the cold, the dirt, the dead, the vultures... But in this moment, right here, at least he can do this. He slips his finger inside Luke's body and hisses at the incredible heat that seems to suck him right in. Pushes another in, and curves to rub against the sensitive bundle of nerves waiting for him.

The sound Luke makes then is like he's been gutted. Barely human. Christ. He can't even remember the last time he had his hand on his cock other than to piss much less been touched like this, sexual pleasure completely forgotten in the struggle to simply survive. "Oh god, yeah," he moans, shifting his legs a little wider.

That response is nearly Alex's undoing. Ravenous need surges in his blood, and he closes his left hand around the base of his own cock, gripping tightly in a struggle for self-control. Three fingers, and he fucks them in and out, spreading the lube, stretching tight muscle. It's faster than he'd prefer, but he feels the race against time prickling along his spine. Every nerve on edge. He slicks more vaseline onto his cock and presses the head against Luke's hole, straining, knowing damn well it has to hurt. "Help me. Take me in."

Luke drops down to his shoulders, reaching behind to spread his cheeks, open himself up more to Alex. And for a second he thinks it'll still be too much. Too long since he's last done this, too little lube, too much cock, fuck, and then his body gives and his cock jerks with the pain.

Alex grinds his teeth to keep the whimpers from spilling out. Pleasure dizzies him, smooth slick heat grabbing hold and enticing him to more. With a soft huff of effort he rocks against Luke, shallowly fucking into him. And then deeper as the path eases.

"Oh God, yeah, fuck me," Luke whispers, rocking back to meet each thrust, his cock spurting a thick blob of precome as Alex gives him everything he's got, the stretch both painful and exactly what he needs.

"Christ," Alex groans, and leans down to lick at Luke's earlobe. "You could make me come just with your voice." Closing his hands over Luke's hips, he pulls him back to meet the next thrust, and finally – _finally_ – he bottoms out in heaven.

Luke blurts out a curse, shifting to one shoulder and wrapping his hand around his throbbing cock. "You are so fucking big."

Alex laughs softly, and murmurs, "You don't have to sweet-talk me. I'm already fucking you." But that's all the tease he's got left in him. He _needs_. Speeds up into a driving rhythm, every snap of his hips a brutal demand. "I can't stop, Luke," he gasps. "Come with me!"

Luke doesn't need the prompting. The moment he feels that flash of wet heat inside him, Alex's cock swelling that fraction more, he comes, spilling over his fingers, his lip bit so hard it bleeds.

In that instant Alex is lost. He feels himself melting into Luke, into a state of being that's more than just physical. His brain would love to rationalize that he's just blowing it all out of proportion – he's simply forgotten how good sex feels. It's just because of faulty memory or trauma or the sudden grasping for hope which he hasn't allowed since the virus spread and the dead invaded. 

But he doesn't quite believe his own excuses.

"Oh, my god," he gasps, desperately trying to suck air into his lungs. "Luke..."

Luke nods, panting softly as he pushes up, wiping his hand on the ground and reaching back for Alex.

But Alex isn't ready to pull out. Fuck no, he's buried deep and he wants to stay there as long as he can. Shifting his weight carefully and locking his arms tightly around Luke, he lies down on his side, keeping their bodies aligned. Connected.

"We need a blanket," Luke says with a smile, his cock giving a jerk every time Alex's throbs inside him.

"Nah. We need to move to Barbados." Although when Alex's thought manages to reach his actual brain, it kills his mood instantly. "Sorry," he mutters, gently disengaging, then sitting up to fumble around and find Luke's clothing.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Luke says, sitting up and touching Alex's arm. "The world is what it is and what we just did made it a lot better as far as I'm concerned."

"I don't know about that." Alex shrugs a little, and pulls his own shirt back on. But his sly grin winks in the moonlit dimness. "I mean, I don't know if what we just did made it better for anyone else, but..." He brushes his lips over Luke's. "I'm certainly happier than I can remember being."

Luke laughs and kisses Alex again. "Good. Me too," he says softly, the words not even close to how he really feels. "We should get Ryan back here," he adds, feeling more than a little guilty they made the man go off into the woods just so they could hump each other's brains out.


End file.
